


Easy as Pie

by within_a_dream



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 12:23:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8327713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/within_a_dream/pseuds/within_a_dream
Summary: Cosette was in love with a woman she'd never spoken to. This wouldn't be such a problem if her emotions didn't come out in everything she baked, leaving her customers emotional wrecks for as long as she refused to face up to her crush.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brilligspoons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilligspoons/gifts).



> Many thanks to marcellin-e for betaing!
> 
> (Sorry about the trailing sentence! It has been fixed)

Cosette would never have agreed to work at her papa’s bakery if she’d known that the neighbors would be so cute. Well, one neighbor in particular, but it was enough to keep her hiding in the back room on breaks and sneaking out after closing with her eyes glued to the sidewalk. Cosette’s heart had been stolen the moment she saw the sign across the street—New Leaf Greenhouse, painted in green on a weathered wooden board—and her first glimpse of the owner didn’t help matters. Hair pulled back in a bandana, a smudge of dirt on her nose, deep brown eyes a girl could get lost in, and a leafy vine tattoo winding up her arm…every detail made Cosette’s crush grow.

If Cosette were a normal girl, she could pine in peace until she either worked up the nerve to talk to the woman or the crush faded. As it was, she had to watch her own emotions play out in every customer who ate at the bakery, and she was seriously considering asking her father to let her off of kitchen duty until her feelings became a bit more manageable. This close to the holidays, they couldn’t afford to lose one pair of hands in the kitchen, but they also couldn’t afford scaring all the customers off when their Christmas cookies made them sink into an unshakable melancholy.

She’d had problems before, with her unusual talent (her father had insisted she call it a talent, and now Cosette couldn’t think of it any other way). Cooking at home had never been a problem—her papa was her rock, always unswayed by whatever she made. It wasn’t until her first home ec class that Cosette began to realize she was different. The day she’d had a panic attack in the bathroom before coming to class, the classmates who ate her omelet were dizzy and nervous, one fleeing the class for the nurse’s office. When she’d gotten the history test she’d been so worried about back the period before, her cupcakes left everyone grinning.

The trimester ended and Cosette forgot about the strange coincidences, at least for a few years. Then she made more friends, and began baking for those friends, and the coincidences began to pile up. After the disastrous band bake sale of junior year, her gift became impossible to ignore.

It took time, but Cosette learned to manage. After a bit of practice, she could even make dishes that didn’t overwhelm their recipients with emotions. She hadn’t passed anything more than a brief joy or fleeting melancholy to the customers in years…until New Leaf moved into the empty storefront across the street.

 

When one of their regular customers burst into tears over a morning bun, Cosette resolved to talk to Ms. New Leaf, no matter what. This resolution led to an increase in the time she spent gazing out the window during lulls in the day, and a few aborted attempts to cross the street after the bakery closed.

In the end, her father pulled her aside after closing for one of the most awkward conversations of her life.

“You’ve been upset lately,” he said, giving Cosette a sympathetic look.

She did her best to avoid meeting his eyes. “I’m doing my best to keep it from affecting my work, but I know things are—”

“I’m not worried about the bakery, dear. I’m worried about _you_.”

It was the worst possible thing her father could have said. Of course Cosette had guessed that he’d noticed (how could he have missed it?), but to think that he’d been seriously worried about her…Cosette had avoided talking to him about relationships since the Great Promposal Fiasco of junior year, but she didn’t have another choice.

“It’s nothing serious, Papa. I promise. I’ve just been pining a bit.”

Cosette could see the panic flood his expression. She loved her father dearly, but he’d never been the best at advice of the romantic kind. After a moment’s hesitation, he asked, “Do I know them?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

He gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder, and she half-smiled, half-grimaced at him before ducking out the bakery door.

 

Out of all the trouble that this crush had wrought, it was the stilted attempt at a pep talk from her papa that spurred Cosette to action. The next afternoon, she marched across the street, determined to speak to the New Leaf’s owner or die trying. The way her heart pounded as she laid her hand on the door made the latter seem more likely than the former, but she couldn’t bear to come this far only to lose her courage.

The chime of the door seemed muffled as Cosette entered, and the heat of the room enveloped her (a far cry from the sharp winter wind outside). She was so caught up in looking around at the plants covering every inch of space that she jumped nearly a foot when Ms. New Leaf herself showed up beside her.

“I didn’t see you there!” Cosette willed her anxious breathiness away. “You don’t have to pull yourself away from your work on my account.”

“You’re my only customer all day,” she replied. “Not many people are out to buy plants in a blizzard.”

Cosette smiled at her, the fluttering in her stomach subsiding a bit. “I have to confess that I’m not here to buy a plant, either. I work at Piece of Cake—the bakery, across the street? I figured I should get to know our new neighbor.”

She smiled back, her eyes lighting up with recognition. “I haven’t let myself go in, because I’m sure I’ll blow my monthly budget on cake, but it’s been tempting. Your window displays are adorable. Do you do the frosting?”

“It’s my father, actually—” Cosette was cut off when someone small knocked into her knees as they ran by, nearly toppling her to the ground.

“Hey, twerp! Slow down.” The woman grabbed the boy by the arm. “If you knock any plants over, I’m taking it out of your allowance. And apologize to our customer.”

“Sorry, miss,” the boy said, glaring at the ground.

“It’s Cosette,” she said, smiling at him, “and it’s all right.”

“I’m Éponine,” the woman replied, “and this is my brother Gavroche, who usually knows better than to knock our guests over.”

Gavroche stuck his tongue out at Éponine and darted back behind the counter. Éponine grimaced apologetically at Cosette.

“It’s a snow day, and he’s been cooped up inside. Usually he’s much less of a brat.”

The door chimed again, sounding far away, and Cosette worked up every inch of courage she possessed. “I should let you get back to work, but…would you like to get coffee sometime? Um, next Friday? The bakery’s closed, you can come over and have a mug and a doughnut on the house.”

Éponine smiled, a crooked tilt of the mouth that made Cosette grin as well. “I’d love to.”

 

Cosette managed to talk her father out of lurking in the kitchen for the whole morning, although he did hang around for a bit to meet the woman his daughter had been pining over for weeks. Cosette and Éponine talked, and sipped coffee, and before she knew it, hours had passed.

“I need to pick up my sibs from school,” Éponine said, standing up. “But this was lovely. I’ll host next time?”

“That sounds wonderful.” Cosette stood to walk her to the door, and on an impulse, leaned forward to kiss her. As soon as their lips touched, Cosette nearly collapsed from nerves, but Éponine put a hand to the back of her neck and deepened the kiss.

“I really do have to go,” she said breathlessly. “Dinner, next weekend?”

Cosette spent the rest of the day grinning like a fool, and everyone who ate at the bakery that week walked out the door whistling.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Easy as Pie [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14927645) by [maebmad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maebmad/pseuds/maebmad)




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